


Mi Fantasía

by Tcharlatan



Series: Rude [4]
Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Beginnings, Christmas Party, Drunk Sex, Fantasizing, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV First Person, Pining, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tcharlatan/pseuds/Tcharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’ve had years of practice talking to my personal living wet dream without letting on that in my head, I’m pretty much always screwing him. By this point, I don’t even skip a beat switching between fantasy and reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mi Fantasía

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/gifts).



> This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en Grey, and do not profit from this work.

I love Christmas so much.

The lights and the decorations strung across every surface. Themed displays in storefront windows and festive music blaring out of every PA system. People dressed up as Santa and lady Santa and slutty Santa and elves. It’s like winter tries to come blowing through and turn everything grey and white, but everyone gets together all at once to send out a huge “FUCK YOU!” Plus, it always seems like it’s the one time of year where people start to _really_ pay attention to their loved ones, just so they can figure out that perfect gift. Things you didn’t know your friends knew about you, things you didn’t know you knew about your friends, things you didn’t realize you liked at all until you get that random-ass present from a quirkier friend; it all comes out at Christmas.

I decided to have my holiday party right after my birthday this year, so it wouldn’t interfere with too many family plans, and it’s been a blast so far. My throat’s actually starting to get sore from talking so much to so many people, so I take a moment to pop the cap off a new beer and just lean in the kitchen doorway to watch everyone have fun for a couple minutes. Kaoru, Shinya, and Totchi are here, plus all of our personal techs, a few guys I vaguely recognize from other bands, a couple of my neighbors, and one of my younger brothers. Most of them brought dates and tag-alongs as well, so my place is completely packed, and everyone is eating, drinking, chatting, playing games, even singing along to the music – everyone is _happy_. There’s hardly anything else I could possibly hope to ask for, and haven’t been able to stop smiling and laughing for hours.

The doorbell rings and it startles me a bit. I figured everyone who was coming was already here. Ah, jeez, I hope it isn’t the building manager with a noise complaint or something; I checked with all my neighbors and they said it was cool if we got a little loud tonight. I squeeze and shuffle my way through the living room to answer, and the first thing I see is blonde hair turned rainbow colors by the Christmas lights strung over the door.

_-A string of blinking, colorful lights bind Kyo’s wrists together, locked behind his knees, and his bound ankles are attached to them to keep him from extending his legs, leaving him immobilized and vulnerable with his ass in the air. He turns a blindfolded gaze toward me, whimpering a plea around the shiny red Christmas ball gag strapped behind his ears, and I slide the first of a string of large red and green beads into his opening.-_

“Oh, hey Kyo! You made it!”

Luckily, I’ve had years of practice talking to my personal living wet dream without letting on that in my head, I’m pretty much always fucking him. By this point, I don’t even skip a beat.

He just smiles a little. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries, I’m glad you came! Here, let me get your coat.”

“Thanks.”

He slips inside and I move up close behind him to help him out of his heavy winter jacket.

_-I come up behind my maid, silent across the library’s plush carpet, and he gasps out a startled “S-sir?” as I slip one hand under the hem of his black skirt to tease at the edge of lacey panties. My other hand slides around to push up the front of his shirt, the tip of my thumb brushing over his nipple, and he drops his feather duster, a deep blush spreading from the bridge of his nose out to his ears.-_

_-Kneeling on the bed, Kyo’s back to my chest and hands wrapped around the back of my neck, I watch our reflection in the mirror in front as my cock disappears into him. The mirror to the side shows how our bodies fit together, with his ass in my lap and his head lolling back against my shoulder, and the one overhead shows the ecstasy on his face when I fill him.-_

He looks pretty calm, but I can tell he’s just a touch uncomfortable as he heads out into the crowd. Really, I just can’t get over the fact that he actually showed up; he generally hates massive social occasions like this. On the one hand, I feel a little bad for him, because I know he probably isn’t going to enjoy this as much as everyone else. On the other, his presence was one of the very few things that could have actually improved my mood tonight, just because any occasion to look at him or listen to him or be around him at all is the highlight of my day. On some inexplicable third hand, hosting this party just got a lot more complicated, because now I’m going to be thinking about fucking my vocalist the whole time.

_-Hot flesh pulses against the back of my throat, heavy and hard, and Kyo’s voice hits a frantic pitch overhead as he reaches his peak. His cum coats my palate, and when he’s done, I pull off his dick to crawl up the length of his body. He surges up to meet me, grabbing me by the hair, and wraps his lips around my tongue to suck his mess off of it.-_

Or being fucked by him. Whatever. Gods, I bet his dick tastes fucking _fantastic_.

I try to clear my head a little by shaking it and continue my rounds of the party, making sure there’s still enough food and drinks out, making sure no one looks sick or lonely or otherwise unhappy. I have to pull a fresh vegetable tray out of the fridge and clear out the trash left from the last one, but that’s about it. Luckily everything’s pretty much in full swing by now, so my full attention isn’t needed anymore. Kaoru’s flagging me over to the living room and the group he’s been shooting the shit with, and I head over to see what’s going on. I’m surprised to spot Kyo settling himself in a stool between the living room and the kitchen – out of the way, as usual, but very much in the middle of things – with an open beer bottle in one hand. Alcohol is a rare indulgence for him.

Maybe it makes him more comfortable? Loosens him up…

_-Kyo braces his arms against the wall, arching his back and moaning deep in his throat as cold, amber liquid pours down over his body, turning his skin glossy gold. I run my tongue from the back of one thigh, over one rounded ass cheek, and up the length of his spine, lapping up the sweat-salted beer, and he spreads his legs to accept the empty bottle I’m pressing against his entrance.-_

_-I tuck my balls back and press my thighs tight together, canting my hips up just a bit. Kyo pours chilled sake down my chest, sending goosebumps through my entire body as it pools around my dick. He leans down, staring straight at me until the last possible second when he puts his lips to the base of my shaft and sips, sucks, licks the liquid off of me.-_

Mmm… but I’m supposed to be paying attention to other things. Or at least look like I am.

“It just seems like it’s getting to the point where bands are put together based more on how they look than how they play,” Kaoru is saying. I smile because I’ve heard this rant before a hundred times, but I think it’s kind of funny when he gets himself all riled up. “It’s like they’re just out there saying ‘Well, we make shit music, but we’re so fucking good-looking, we can’t possibly fail!’ And the worst part is, _they usually don’t fail!_ Instead of practicing their damn instruments, they fuss over their hair and their clothes and their make-up and all this other bullshit and people just eat it up! If you just want to be pretty, why bother being in a band at all?! Just go be a model or something. An escort. I don’t give a shit; just get out of my damn profession!”

“Some of our first managers didn’t like me because the make-up people couldn’t get me girly enough,” I add, just to egg him on. “Eventually they just gave up and starting making me into some kind of bondage Gestapo.”

_-I’m wrapped in black vinyl, from my platform boots all the way up to the mask covering my nose and mouth, hindering my breathing. I gasp in vain for air, getting hotter and more desperate by the second as Kyo straps me down and runs his tongue up my thigh. All I feel through the frictionless fabric is heat that turns rapidly to cold, and I go mad as he sets to teasing every part of me.-_

“See! It’s bullshit! A fucking _phenomenal_ guitarist, and all they can do is complain that he doesn’t look good in a dress.”

“Don’t forget the shoes,” I remind him.

It sets him off into another tirade, and I grin against the mouth of my beer bottle before taking a long drink. I’m not going to lie; I enjoy the heels. Not for myself, of course – I’m all legs as it is, I hardly need them – but as incredible as Kyo’s ass is normally, it looks fucking _edible_ when he’s in heels. Like, should-be-slow-cooked-and-served-in-fancy-restaurants edible. Ah, and when we’re performing, and he does his little twisting dance against the mic stand, hips and that glorious ass swaying… kills me every time! Luckily I’m generally on my side of the stage by myself, and my guitar covers any indiscretion I may develop over the course of the show. I can’t really bring myself to flaunt public displays of arousal the way that he can. For being so shy in his private life, he’s pretty damn bold once he gets in front of a crowd. I think he gets off on it.

_-A long-fingered hand clamps around my arm and drags me into a dark, dusty corner of the backstage. Kyo – shirtless, sweating, and desperately aroused from his time on stage – shoves me to the ground and wastes no time tearing at our clothes. I’m already throbbing just from listening to him sing; he has to press one hand over my mouth to keep me quiet as my dick pops free and he begins to frantically grind his own down into it.-_

_-Kyo’s body slides down the length of the pole, every lithe muscle highlighted by the oil coating him, clad only in a black leather thong. His hips switch and roll to the heavy bass beat of the music playing overhead and he falls slowly to his knees, his torso dropping back into an impossible arch. One hand slides down his chest to cup his groin, and he thrusts up into it rhythmically, flashing a sultry glance to his adoring crowd.-_

I’m not even paying attention to this conversation anymore, am I? Ah well… Kao seems to be carrying it on fairly well. I can afford to let my mind wander back to where it wants to be.

I believe that everyone holds one great secret; hides one little piece of themselves in the darkest corners of the heads from all the world because they _know_ , beyond all doubt, that no good can come from exposing it, but they covet it far too much to ever give it up. My obsession with Kyo is my one great secret. It started the second I first laid eyes on him and saw – _everything_ , from the curves of his ass to his long, knuckley fingers, to that purely sinful mouth, his height, his voice, his eyes – the living manifestation of my every sexual desire. He’s not what I’d ever imagined my perfect man would look like, but once I found him, I suddenly understood that he was everything I’ve ever wanted.

Only trouble is, as far as any of us can tell, he’s perfectly straight, which, of course, means he’s a total no-go on dating _or_ fucking where I’m concerned. So, since I couldn’t have him for myself for real, I just objectified him and used his image as masturbation fodder. Simple enough. It’s almost automatic at this point; all I have to do is look at him, like this, and-

_-I throw my beer to one side and charge up to Kyo’s stool. He has just enough time to notice me and blink once in confusion before I’ve thrown him to the floor and ripped both of our clothes off. The shocked, scandalized stares of my guests and the Christmas music playing through the sudden awkward silence only spur me on as I let loose and just fuck him again and again.-_

It all changed one day, when he shuffled into practice half-asleep – hair all over the place, eyes half-open – and I called him ‘cute’ in the girliest singsong voice I could manage. He immediately twisted up his face into the most hilariously ugly face I’ve ever seen. Somehow, on him, I still found it unreasonably unattractive, but it came so suddenly I just busted up laughing and damn near fell off of the half-broken stool I was on. He laughed a little with me, then just smiled and went on his way, shaking his head, never knowing what he had just done to me. It was the first time I’d ever seen him smile and really _mean_ it, and it was so fucking incredible to me for whatever reason that just like that, I realized I had fallen for him completely. Whenever it had happened, however it had happened, I was in love, and suddenly knowing that – in combination with the knowledge that I can’t have him – was like being punched in the lungs.

For the most part, I’ve never really suffered from my ‘unrequited love’ since that first realization. I guess it’s just because if I were to sit down and fantasize about what I’d want a relationship with Kyo to be like, it would be almost exactly the same as what we have now. I see him almost every day, we hang out and laugh and make music together all the time, he falls asleep with his head on my shoulder and I bum smokes right out of his mouth when I’m too lazy to get my own. It’s perfect; I sacrifice absolutely nothing to spend my days with the man I love. Really, the only thing that would be different if I had him the way I want him is that I’d spend basically every waking moment balls deep in every orifice or crevice I could find on him.

_-A forest of extra appendages bursts out of me, some slimy with desperately sensitive heads, some scaly and strong, every one of them long and prehensile. I catch Kyo up with my stronger limbs, ripping his clothes away like tissue paper, and push the nerve-cluster heads of the others into every part of him I can; his ass, his mouth, his hands, sometimes cramming in two at a time, and he howls his ecstasy as I envelope him.-_

…Huh. Tentacles? Don’t go down that road very often…

Anyway, if I could only have what I have now, _or_ the chance to fuck him over and over until he bleeds, sweats, and cries my cum, I guess I’d pick what I have now… probably. So I consider myself a very lucky man. Sure, there are definitely days that I swear I’d murder my best friend for a shot at _both_ , but for the most part, I get by just fine. For tonight, I can be content just socializing, being a good host and getting myself and everyone around me happily drunk, and – maybe every now and again – watching the Christmas lights dance in his hair from a distance.

Speaking of getting drunk, this bottle is empty. I’ll have to remedy that.

***

_~Everyone is gone. I blinked once, and the room was half-empty. Blinked again, and only a handful were left. A third blink, and the room is deserted. Christmas music is still playing on a loop. Only Kyo is still here; I told him before that he was too drunk to go home by himself and that he had to stay the night, and he apologized for being an inconvenience, but agreed. He couldn’t really argue, seeing as how he couldn’t even stand straight at that point, let alone walk anywhere. And it really is because I think he would be at risk, not because he’s so fucking pretty with a booze-blush and I want to be a creeper and watch him while he’s sleeping on my couch._

**_That’s_ ** _a happy coincidence._

_I pull myself up off of the couch and find him trying to help clean up my living room, collecting an armful empty bottles with bleary eyes, weaving all over the place. I follow him to the kitchen and watch him very carefully, very deliberately put the bottles into the waste bin, trying so hard not to drop or break anything, and the whole scene is just ridiculously endearing. An idea hits me, leaving me giddy at the sheer novelty of it compared to everything else I’ve imagined doing to him. I reach up and snag one of the decorations off the top of the kitchen doorframe and hide it behind my back as I come up behind my vocalist. He doesn’t notice until I’m right behind him, crowding him against the counter, but when he does, he only looks a little confused._

_“Die?”_

_“If you really want to make it up to me, don’t bother cleaning,” I tell him in as serious a voice as I can manage. “You just have to give me something special.”_

_And he raises an eyebrow, because he’s always raising his eyebrows over something or another. “What do you want?”_

_I can’t even begin to stop my grin at that one. Oh, Baby… just you wait and see. I don’t think I can say anything without it starting with “My dick” and ending with “every part of your fucking body,” and I don’t want to jump to that right away, so I just bring my decoration out from behind my back and dangle it over his head. He looks up at it, wobbles a little to one side, takes a minute to figure out what it is, then looks back at me. The eyebrow is still raised, but now he’s smirking._

_“Hmph. If you want it so bad, why don’t you just take it?”_

_I lean down and press my mouth against his immediately. I hit too hard and I know it – hear him grunt when his back hits the counter, feel my teeth bite into my own skin just a little – but any pain I might be feeling is a dull, distant nuisance, so all that’s left is his smell and his heat and there are no words to describe how fucking soft his lips are. I fix both of mine against his lower, feel myself shaking because I actually want to just eat him whole right now but I want to draw this out, to make it last and savor it. It’s our first kiss, after all, and he’s so fucking sweet all glossy-eyed and rosy-cheeked._

_I get nearly a half of a minute to cherish the gentle slide-and-suction pressure against his lips before he pulls back, and even when he does, it’s very careful, just enough to break us apart. His eyes are wide and he blinks that slow, slow blink that he does when he’s been impressed by something, swaying just slightly with each breath._

_“Die… that wasn’t funny at all.”_

_“Yeah, I know.”_

_He sounds kind of… confused? Curious, maybe? Ha! Kyo drunk is as bad at being straight as he is at being scary. Slowly – so slowly I’m pretty sure I’m imagining it right up until I feel his skin touch mine – he wraps one hand around the back of my neck and tugs me back down. I press him back against the counter, dropping my sprig of mistletoe to grab him by the hips, lapping at his lips and teeth until they part and I go lightheaded at how completely fucking delicious he is inside. Too rough, again; I’m being a little too rough with him, but I can’t help myself. Everything I have is completely focused on driving myself into his mouth, over and over, imprinting his taste on my brain so I never ever forget this perfect moment._

_He’s a little shy about kissing me back, but he hasn’t let go of my neck and his other hand is a light pressure on my side and I want to fuck him. More than ever, I want to fuck him. I want to fuck him right now and keep fucking him until both of us are covered in sweat and jizz and we can’t move or breathe or think. He gets bolder and I think we might need to come up for air soon, but I’m going to hold onto this as long as I possibly can. Something warm and smooth under my fingers – I didn’t realize my hands were under his shirt, but he feels so good. The distant impact of my shoulder against something hard – I didn’t realize we were moving, but my hallway is so narrow. I find a tiny patch of silk that can really only be a nipple and rub my thumb over it, taking in as much of its softness as I can before it tightens with the rest of him. He makes a tiny noise into my mouth, like a grunt and a whimper, and I damn near cum in my pants right there._

_I let him pull back for air, let him hold onto my neck and pant just a little, before toppling him back onto my bed and crawling on top of him. He looks good against my blankets; perfect, just the way I’ve always imagined him. Better, even, somehow. I grab at his shirt, but it’s not really cooperating with me, and I end up breaking more of the buttons than I manage to undo. Doesn’t matter, it’s open and he’s half-bared and when I start kissing and licking my way down his neck and chest, he grabs a handful of my hair and squirms underneath me. His stomach quivers under my lips, and when I fix my mouth against his abs and drive my tongue into his belly button, he squeaks and bucks up against me. It’s harder than it should be to get his pants open, and I’m nipping at him in frustration by the time the button comes undone and the zipper gives way, but if the noises he’s making are any indication, he doesn’t mind my teeth._

_If the noises he’s making keep up, I’m not going to be able to hold out. His voice has always ruined me._

_I yank at his boxers until his cock pops loose, half-hard and bobbing obscenely between us. It’s not how I usually imagine it; longer – almost oddly long, like how his hands and feet are long – and so, **so** much darker. Unpierced, too. But still beautiful, because he’s always beautiful, and when I wrap my lips around the smooth head to taste him, the salty tang on my tongue and the low moan dragging out of him are beautiful too. A gentle suck, a flick of the tip of my tongue against his slit, and he’s pushing up into me again, getting just that little bit harder. Sometimes, all I want is to suck on his need until he bursts in my mouth and savor the feeling of taking him apart completely, but tonight everything is hitting too strong and I need more. Need to be **inside** of him, and fast.   _

_“Nnnh! Die… Gods, **Die** …”_

_Fast like **now**. I pull back and there’s a sudden sting when he doesn’t let go of my hair right away, but I can barely feel it. He whines a little and the sound of it goes straight to my balls, making me ache, and I strip out of my shirt as fast as I can before crawling back on top of him to kiss him again. There’s no shyness this time, both of us just all-out eating at one another’s mouths. His hands dig at my shoulders right up until I yank his arms back to get the rest of his shirt off, fighting with the tangled mess until it finally comes free, then his nails are right back in my skin. There’s desperation in his grip, and I fucking love it. He keeps arching up against me and it makes it so damn easy to push a hand down the back of his pants and grab a handful of that flawless ass, all firm muscle and silky skin and endless writhing, squirming motion. One of us groans and one of us growls and fuck if I know which sound came from who._

_I have to break off again to get his pants off and they’re tight, so it takes some struggling from both of us, but finally, fucking **finally** , he’s laying completely naked on my bed. Naked, blushing, panting, hard, hands fisting in the covers and watching me with booze-glossy eyes. It occurs to me in this moment that the gods themselves must have made him just for me. There’s no other way he could be so perfect. And with that realization comes the quiet, dull pain that this moment between Kyo and I can exist only inside my own head; that I will never get to truly know him in any carnal sense. I push that thought away before it can spoil my fantasy. I open up my pants and pull my junk out to ease the horrible constriction before kneeling over him again._ _His legs spread easily under my hands, but he looks a little uncertain._

_“Die, I-…” he slurs, trailing off before I can make out anything of substance, and he suddenly seems to have trouble meeting my eyes. “I, ah-… it’s-…”_

_I know what he’s going to say, because it’s our first time together and he has always been a little insecure for our first time when he doesn’t fall back on his “Fuck the World, This is Me” stage persona. Sometimes I like to ease him out of his bullshit, gently worship every part of him until there’s no room left in him for a shadow of a doubt that he is gorgeous in every possible way. I take it slow and gentle, touching him everywhere, kissing him everywhere, whispering to him all the reasons that I love his mind and his heart and his body. I make him believe that he has been my whole world since the day we met, and show him the red string connecting us._

_“Kyo, shut the fuck up. You’re perfect and amazing, and I love you, and I’m going to fuck you until you love me too.”_

_Other times, I… don’t do those things. Whatever, it makes sense to me. And he doesn’t look unsure anymore – although his eyes have gone kind of wide, like he’s a bit stunned – so my goal is accomplished either way. Still, I lean down to kiss away any further stupid notions he might have that he isn’t everything I’ve ever wanted, and after a moment of hesitation, he’s kissing me back again, even harder than before. I grope around on the bedside table with one hand – hit something hard, hear something shatter, couldn’t care less – and grab the half-empty lube bottle. I don’t want to pull away from him again, not until I really have to, so I fumble the cap open and just squeeze out a bunch of it under his balls. He squeaks, probably because it’s a little cold, and I swallow the sound, pressing one finger into the slippery mess and pushing underneath, back to his hole._

_I get that one finger almost all the way inside of him before I have to wrap my free hand around the base of my own dick and squeeze hard to keep from cumming. He’s so unbelievably tight this time that just the thought of being inside of him has me throbbing. And he’s moving again, legs bending and pressing against the bed, hips rolling, shuddering and clinging to me. I start pushing in and out of him slowly, feeling him quiver and try so hard to relax around me, and the noises start up again. Grunts and mewls and huffs too impatient to be sighs. It’s not enough anymore. I need to make him make those noises he makes on stage, that send a ripple of shivers through an entire fucking auditorium of people._

_I add another finger, and get a higher keen in response, and now I think I’m actually drooling. But I have to be patient, **have** to be, because he is so damn tight. I push in to the last knuckle and curl my fingers. He snaps his head to one side, breaking our kiss to gasp for air. I repeat the motion, slower this time, and his back arches off the bed, hips rolling up and dragging his cock against my stomach. It’s an incredible sight, and I can’t help but manipulate the switch I found inside of him, rubbing it over and over until he’s hard, gasping and groaning, one hand still grabbing at the blankets, the other a vice-grip on my left arm. The third finger gets me my scream. It only lasts half a second before cutting off into a gasp, but it’s there, and it’s for **me**. For a minute, there’s only panting, and then-_

_“Ngh! D-… Die…!”_

_Fuck it. This is good enough. It has to be._

_He gasps when I take my fingers out, **squeals** when I rub my dick against his taint to spread the rest of the lube around, and stops breathing entirely when I push halfway into him. At least, I think he does? That or I’ve gone deaf with pleasure. I’ve sure as hell gone blind with it. Another push and I’m **almost** all the way in – he’s squeezing so fucking hard, it almost hurts as much as it feels good, but I can’t stop moving, can’t stop cramming as much of myself into him as is physically possible – one more and he lets out a shuddery little noise as my balls press against his ass. At least it starts him breathing again; quick, tiny puffs I feel against my shoulder. But I still can’t stop moving. In and out, just a little, so he can adjust, even though I know he’s okay because I could never imagine hurting Kyo, but just enough to get some friction, cause it’s so goddamn good I could die right this second and go out happy._

_It occurs to me that one of us is talking. Something stupid about “you’re perfect” and “I love you” and “you’re beautiful” and “I’m going to fuck you so deep you taste my dick.” Then I realize it must be me, because I can still hear Kyo panting against my shoulder._

_Everything starts to slow, or maybe it just stretches out? His breathing gets a little deeper with each inhale, he loosens up a little more with each exhale, and each cycle eases the choking grip he has on me. I guess after all this time, matching rhythm with him just comes naturally to me, because it doesn’t take long before we’re entirely in synch. It’s a slow song right now; slow and simple. Striking for its content, not its pace, and that’s fitting, because Kyo has always been one to provide striking content and right now, this moment of restraint and adjustment, it’s only as good as it is because it’s him. Ah, but wait. It’s not the whole song. Just the intro. A nice, slow intro and then–_

_I shift my weight to get better leverage, bend him further under me, and thrust again. He hisses curse words, bucking up against me, **tightening** around me, and I do it again, harder, and get another one of those half-lived screams. I change the rhythm, moving faster and harder, deeper and stronger, and he follows me this time, rocking up to meet me, letting his head fall back to open his throat for some of those fucking **noises.** We build into a wild verse and chorus, powerful and dramatic, just the way he likes it, the way that makes him really sing, the way that makes my whole body shake with electricity or energy or pleasure. The bed is banging against the wall and it makes a nice supporting beat for the whole thing._

_I swear I can feel his voice vibrating in my balls, and it’s driving me absolutely **insane**._

_One of us is talking again. Something amazing like “Die!” and “Unh!” and “ **Fuck!** ” in clipped, gasping bursts between the noises, sometimes high-pitched, sometimes growling. It has to be Kyo, and now I have to fuck him harder. I shove him higher up on the bed, bracing an arm against the wall, and he reaches up to grab the headboard for support. On the one hand, I miss the feeling of him clinging to me like he needs me to live, but on the other hand, now that I can raise up enough to see him, I realize he looks fucking incredible like this. He’s all sweaty and shiny, his lips are fat and dark from our roughness earlier, and his eyelids are fluttering like his eyes are trying to roll back into his skull. And his dick – oh gods, his dick – is like a work of art. I thought it was gorgeous before but now, hard – for me – dripping – **for me** – straining up towards me like it wants me as much as I want it, it’s like an obscene masterpiece. When I hit him just right his whole body lifts up off the bed and I can see every single muscle on him in the split second before he clamps down around me and **my** eyes go rolling. _

_I can feel myself losing control, and I know I’m going to blow my load soon. It’s a goddamn travesty, because I would gladly spend the rest of my life buried in Kyo, but I just can’t hold back anymore. I reach down to stroke off that mouth-watering piece between his thighs and he starts screaming for real as I let loose and put everything I have into pounding his ass. The bed is slamming into the wall, there’s a crack-thud-shatter off to one side, and I could not care less because his voice hits a new pitch that I can **feel** in my ear and suddenly he’s a strangling grip on my dick again and my whole body is short-circuiting. Can’t see, can’t hear, don’t care; I can feel everything, and only one thought survives. I’m cumming inside of Kyo – fucking **filling** him with my genetic material – and the very idea just makes me cum harder, and his mess is splashing all over himself and my hand, and even after he’s milked me dry, the knowledge that I caused it makes me twitch._

_All of a sudden, all the energy I had before is completely gone, like it all got poured into him as well. My body shakes with the effort of not just dropping onto him when I lean down to kiss him and stroke his cheek because as beautiful as he is mid-sex, nothing compares to how he is now, spent and sweet and mine. Gods, why does something this perfect have to exist if I can’t have it for myself? Ah, but I wouldn’t trade my life for anything without him in it, even if it would spare me this ache…_

_Why is there still banging? The bed isn’t moving anymore…_

_“MR. ANDOU, THIS IS THE POLICE!”_

_Oh, hell!_

_The voices – stern, bordering on pissed – and the banging continue, but I can’t make out any of the words as I ease out of Kyo as quick and careful as I can and stagger out into the hallway, slamming into the wall because the turn is too sharp for me to manage. My whole body is throbbing with exhaustion and what promises to be a truly heinous hangover, and I knock over a small table covered in magazines and empty bottles on my way to the door. I do remember to tuck my junk back into my pants before I answer. Voices and faces buzz in my head – noise complaints from multiple neighbors on multiple floors, scolding and reprimand, a fine issued for disturbing the peace – and I feel myself respond, apologize without thought. I blink, and the police are gone, the door shut behind me. Blink again, and I’m laying down naked next to Kyo, pulling him tight against me while he fusses and mumbles in his sleep. Blink-~_

***

Head hurts… throbbing… worst dream ever. Wake up enough to turn over, head hurts worse – not a dream, then – and every muscle in my body complains about the effort. Oh _gods_ , I feel like shit. Drank too much last night, of course. I expected this, knew what was going to happen when I kept popping open beer after beer after beer, but that doesn’t make it suck any less. At least I made it to my bed though… hopefully under my own power? Shit… I don’t even remember the end of the night. Only that incredible wank-fantasy after everyone left. Well, hopefully that was after everyone left? It was good though. Different from normal – simpler, almost more innocent and definitely less pornographic than I usually like – but better, somehow. Hell, even now, I swear I can taste him, smell his sweat and cum on my skin and in my sheets. Mmm…

The bit at the end with the cops was weird, but weird shit is always creeping into my head when I’m drunk.

I peek one eye open to check the time and groan into my pillow, partly because it’s well past noon, partly because for a split second, the light made my head throb hard enough that I think my bed actually shook from it. I feel like I’m dying, but I know I should probably get up and get some painkillers before this gets any worse. Maybe just… maybe in a few minutes, though. It’s not that I think I’m going to make it better by shoving my face in the pillow. I’ve been down this road more than enough times to know better than that. But I don’t want to get up. Oh, maybe I can sleep some more… not _too_ much, just a little, just enough to take the edge off… maybe just enough to have a nice dream where Kyo is still in my bed?

I don’t even get half asleep before the very distinct sound of metal-on-stove knocks – oddly polite – against my skull. It’s quiet, but definitely coming from inside my apartment. Which means someone slept over, and I should probably at least pretend to be a good host and see that they’re okay. Damn it. I sigh and roll myself up into a sitting position – hiss a bit at the flare in my headache – then grab my jeans from last night off the floor. Eyes closed to keep out the light just a little longer, I get them all the way on before I realize there is absolutely no way in hell these pants belong to me. I look down to make sure I’m putting them on right, but there’s no mistake. The waist is too big and the legs are too short and-

_Fuck me, are these Kyo’s pants?!_

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way Kyo’s pants are on my bedroom floor. I fumble them off and dig the wallet out of the back pocket and even though I recognize the damn thing – why wouldn’t I?! I bought it for his birthday last year! – I have to dig out the ID card to be sure. And there he is, all shiny and two dimensional, looking vaguely grumpy next to a name he almost never uses. I have to sit back down.

It… wasn’t a fantasy, then? I slept with Kyo? Looking around the room, evidence of my transgression just pops out at me from all directions. Lube, still open on the blanket, squished out all over the place. Lamp, knocked off the bedside table and broken. Kyo’s shirt, halfway across the room, and there’s one of the buttons by my foot. I _slept_ with _Kyo_. Fuck me, I slept with Kyo when he was drunk! I took advantage- _fuck me,_ I barely prepped him! Oh, this is bad. This is so bad. Is he the one in my kitchen right now?! Ohhh, he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me so dead. _FUCK ME, I didn’t use a condom!_ Shit, I deserve it if he does! I don’t think I’ve ever been this many kinds of asshole all at the same time before.

Worst of all is there’s a huge part of me that is so completely ecstatic that I actually got to fuck Kyo and fall asleep with him in my arms.

Oh hell… I have to deal with this. I have to do _something._ I find a pair of sweatpants and pull them on, then creep down the hall like a guilty teenager. Like maybe if I come in really, really quietly and make my sorriest face, he won’t murder me. Or worse, hate me. Oh gods, he’s going to hate me after this! Fuck me, _fuck me_ , I am a total asshole!

I find him standing in my kitchen with his back to the door, doing something on the stove. It sounds – and smells – like he’s cooking something, but I’m mostly interested in the fact that all he’s wearing is a tee-shirt, and it’s big but I can just make out the bottom curve of his ass when he moves just right. And it’s one of my shirts! And now I need to focus on something else before I get a boner that will probably take a lot of the sincerity out of my apology. Of course I’m an idiot, so I keep staring, and I’m a coward, so I don’t go any further than the doorway. In case I have to run away or something? I don’t know.

He stops moving for a moment and looks back at me over his shoulder, his face completely blank. I immediately hunch my shoulders and look away, scratching the back of my head.

“…Hey,” is all I can think to say.

“…Hey.”

His voice is soft. He’s not too angry, then? I don’t know what he is, then… what he possibly could be. He looks back at the stove and I shift my weight, uncomfortable.

“So… good thing Kao makes us take those STI tests all the time, huh?”

 _Gods,_ I am an asshole!

He sighs, “Die-”

“I’m sorry, Kyo.” Yes. That’s better. Keep going with that. “About last night, I just… I was drunk and I know that’s no excuse for what I did, but I… I just got caught up in-… I mean, you know I would never intentionally hurt you or disrespect you, right? Because I wouldn’t, _ever,_ and I hope this doesn’t-… shit, man, I’m _really_ sorr-”

“Did you mean what you said?”

I snap my mouth shut. What did I say? I told him I wanted to fuck him at least a dozen times, but I’m pretty sure he knows I meant that. “Umm…”

“Last night,” he says, like that clarifies anything.

“I… said a lot of things last night…”

A soft huff. “Yeah, you did. Only one of them mattered. Look, Die, I was drunk too, but wasn’t _that_ drunk. I could have stopped the whole thing at the first kiss and I didn’t. I don’t blame you, and I’m not angry that it happened. You and I have always been close, and I’m not going to let this ruin that, I just need to know-… you… seemed like you knew it was me, but when I hesitated, you said… you told me…”

Oh. _Oh._ I shrink back into the hall a little. “You mean… when I told you I love you.”

Several times. Probably about as many times as I told him I wanted to fuck him. I didn’t think anything of it then; I say it to him in my fantasies all the time. But he doesn’t take that word lightly, and he’d probably hate me more for saying it to him off-handedly than he does for the sex itself.

“Yeah. That.” His voice is so low, I can barely hear him.

“…” Well, here goes my big secret. “Yeah. I meant it.”

For a long time, there’s nothing. He stares at the stove, and I stare at his back. After a minute, he pulls two plates down off the shelf, flicks off the burner, and picks the pan up off the stove. A big blob of fluffy yellow gets pushed out onto each plate – eggs, I suppose – and the pan and spoon go into the sink with a muffled clink. He’s being very careful, very deliberate… it reminds me of last night, when he was putting the bottles in the trash. Trying so hard not to break them, trying not to disturb the moment, and right now, I feel like he’s being careful with _us_. I want to hold him so badly.

“Kyo…” I whisper, not really on purpose, just because I need to say his name.

He turns to look back at me again. This time he looks a little confused; lost, really, like he’s completely out of his element and not quite sure what to do with himself. But he’s smiling and even though it’s unsure – I think my heart might have stopped just now, mid-beat – it’s _that_ smile. The real one. And I don’t know what’s going to come of this, don’t know if I dare to hope that it’s going to be everything I ever wanted against all odds, but I do know that if he’s smiling _that_ smile, it can only be something good.

I love Christmas so _fucking_ much.

 


End file.
